The Curators’ platform has always been about exclusivity. They’re usually the most sought-after organization, withmembership being invite-only, so I’m sure the murders and curse talk will become ancient history in a short while.
On the other hand, Death’s Teeth is the school’s mostelusivegroup. They operate in the shadows, in library basements and caves within the Primordial Forest. It’s a fringe organization run by anonymous founding family members and Fury Hill officials. Their purpose is to emphasize the cyclical nature of life and the importance of tradition, and highlight how everyone must bend to death.
They exploit fear and anonymity to maintain order, recruiting anyone with Fury Hill blood, trying to keep the line of their leadership “pure.”
Fledglings aren’t privy to such information, but when you’re the one they think was chosen by some made-up god to run the organization, you get more insight than you bargained for.
Even if you refuse to step into the role of Incarnate, knowing it’s a far more complex situation—involving human sacrifice, blood oaths, and exhibitionist displays—than they say.
That’s why I’m still just an Elder despite years of participation. If I go any higher, whatever freedom I have left disappears.
Not to mention if I’m not the target, that puts Beckett in their path.
I suspect that’s what made Bellamy their sacrifice eight years ago, though there’s no proof. No body was ever recovered, and my parents didn’t look into it. Any journals logged by the campus parasite, Pythia—who runs the school’s hyperbolic and invasive newsletter from a faceless account—were lost or destroyed.
When I offer no objection to the dean’s claims, he goes on. “It’s also imperative that we don’t draw attention to your relationship. The two of you don’t lookthatmuch alike, so it’spossible the average student won’t notice if we don’t point it out…and if you don’t spend too much time together in public.”
My skin starts to itch as the migraine from before returns, pulsing around my nose.
Mother scoffs. “Avernia is much too small to get away with that, no? Everyone knows who the Duponts are.”
“We have a record-high number of nonresidents of Fury Hill attending this year,” he tells her. “I think it’s a possibility. Or perhaps it would be more beneficial if we had Beckett reside in Sutton’s faculty quarters instead? Lowers the risk of him running into people who know his last name.”
“It would also be much easier to keep tabs on him,” Mother says.
“Fine,” I reply. “Otherwise, our interactions will remain at a minimum outside the apartment.”
Beckett grits his teeth. “Sounds like another way for Mr. Goody Two-Shoes to exert his authority on campus by pretending I’m some troublemaker.”
I level him with a look. “Need I remind you of the reason we’re here at all and why you need looking after?”
“We’re going to ignore the fact that I was attacked by another student?” he retorts. “Who, by the way, I notice is absent. What’re the chances he’s also being treated like a ticking time bomb?”
“Beckett, darling, youkidnappeda student.” Mother pinches the bridge of her nose, turning her angular face away. “I’m not sure you have the grounds to be offended here.”
“Officially, though, the school says nothing even happened. They’ve covered everything up, so why are we still acting like I’m a convicted criminal when the crime,on paper, doesn’t exist?”
A fair question. His antics ended with kidnapping, breaking and entering, and the deaths of three other students. But since the Curators have the dean’s personal approval and are sointricately woven into the fabric of the university, everything was covered up, and Beckett was merely deemed too unstable for leadership. They stripped his title while he bled outside the caves, having been beaten badly by one of the students who came to the kidnappee’s rescue.
I’m still not entirely surewhyhe did it. The curse, some amorphous ramblings about how one founder’s misdeeds will apparently bring destruction in the form of his descendants, needed three Andersons on campus at once to even be valid. Last semester, there were only two.
Though I suppose when you crave your father’s approval the way he always has, you might do whatever you can to get it. Even if it means following ridiculous orders.
Jean-Louis’s absence doesn’t exactly bode well on that front.
Dean Bauer’s face pales, and more sweat seems to accumulate on his forehead and beneath his beady eyes. “Despite the efforts Avernia College goes to in ensuring the safety of its students?—”
Beckett snorts.
“—there are still examples to be had. There were too many whispers, especially on that damn school forum, about what happened for us to let you go unpunished. Frankly, Mr. Dupont, I think you’re getting off easy.”
“You’re only letting me attend under the condition that my brother be my babysitter,” he replies. “I can’t go to official Curator functions because I was kicked out, everyone will probably steer clear of me, and I have to report toSutton. How is that easy?”
“Well, the alternative was that you didn’t return, period. You should be grateful to be coming back at all. What would your ancestors, the co-founders of this great town, think of your actions?”
If they believed the curse, I imagine they’d be fine with them. All except one, at least.
“Dean Bauer,” Mother interjects, sloshing her drink around. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to intimidate my sons. Lest I remind you of the other child I left in your care who did not return to me.”
